With deep reverence, the gods gathered and offered salutations to Ambikā, the Divine Mother. They bowed to her from every direction—at her sides, behind, before, above, below, and all around—again and again, honoring her omnipresence. With voices full of hope and longing, they entreated her: “O great goddess, O dweller in the jeweled island, sovereign of countless millions of universes, mother of the world—show us your compassion.” Their praises rose higher: “Victory to you, O goddess, mother of all! Victory to you, who transcend even the transcendent! O radiant sovereign of the worlds, highest among the high, may you be victorious!” They called her the treasure-house of all auspicious qualities and virtues, and at the gateway of the world, they begged her to be gracious, for she is the supreme ruler. At this moment, Nārāyaṇa spoke, narrating how, upon hearing these bold yet sweet words, the Mother of the World responded. Her voice, melodious and enchanting like an intoxicated cuckoo, filled the air. She said, “I am always pleased, O gods, you who are the crest-jewels among those who grant boons. Let all the wise ones speak freely of whatever they wish to have accomplished.” Encouraged by her words, the gods revealed the cause of their suffering. With humility and devotion, they described how a wicked demon’s evil deeds had brought great distress to the world. They spoke of the insult and destruction suffered by the gods, the Brahmins, and the Vedas, and how their own positions had been lost. They recounted in detail the boon once granted by Brahmā, explaining its consequences to the goddess. Upon hearing all this, the great goddess, Bhrāmarī, acted. She released the bees she had been holding in her hands, as well as those stationed at her sides and near the sacred fire. These bees assumed wondrous forms, and she created countless more, so that the three worlds became filled with their swarming presence. The sky darkened, the earth was shadowed, and bees appeared everywhere—in the heavens, on mountain peaks, in trees, and deep within the forests. It was a marvelous sight: the bees rose up as one and attacked the chests of the Daityas, the evil demons. Like furious bees defending their stolen honey, they swarmed the Daityas with unstoppable force. No weapon or missile could protect the demons; there was no battle, no conversation—only sudden, inevitable death. Wherever the Daityas stood, in whatever place or manner, there they fell, their arrogance ended. In mere moments, these foremost of Daityas were utterly destroyed. Having accomplished their purpose, the bees returned to the goddess’s side. Witnessing this wonder, people exclaimed, “This is truly a marvel! What miracle is beyond the Mother of the World, whose power is so great?” Joy overflowed among the gods. Led by Brahmā and Viṣṇu, they worshipped Ambikā, offering gifts and proclaiming her victory as they showered her with flowers. In the heavens, drums resounded, Apsaras danced, the best of sages recited the Vedas, and the Gandharvas and others sang in celebration. The sounds of mridangas, murajas, vinas, dhakkas, damarus, bells, and conches filled the three worlds. With palms joined and placed upon their heads, all the gods praised her with hymns, crying out, “Victory, Mother! Victory, O Ruler!” Pleased by their devotion, the Great Goddess granted each god a boon as they desired, bestowing upon them, above all, abundant devotion to herself. Then, as the gods looked on, she vanished from their sight. Thus ends the tale of Bhramari’s wondrous deeds. Whoever reads or listens to this story finds all their sins destroyed; it is a wondrous account, helping one cross the ocean of worldly existence. The stories of all Manus, when joined with the greatness of the Goddess and recited or heard, bestow auspiciousness and destroy all sin. Whoever reads or listens to this daily is freed from sin and attains union with the Goddess herself. As this tale concluded, the sages turned to another marvel. They addressed the narrator: “This account of yours concerning the cause of pregnancy is astonishing. A doubt has arisen among us ascetics. We know that Vyāsa’s mother is called Satyavatī, and that she was later married to King Shantanu. But how did Vyāsa, her son, come to be while she was still in her father’s house? And how was she, as she was, chosen again by King Shantanu? Tell us the truth about the two sons born to her. Relate in detail this supremely purifying story. Speak of the birth of Vyāsa and again of Satyavatī. All of us sages, firm in our vows, wish to hear it once more.” The narrator, Sūta, bowed to the supreme Power, the bestower of the four aims of life, and promised to speak of the primordial Power and narrate this auspicious, ancient tale. He declared that by merely uttering her name, one attains eternal success, especially through the seed syllable of Vagbhava, even indirectly. For the fulfillment of all desires, the Goddess, who grants all wished-for things, should always be remembered with a whole heart. He began: “There was a king named Rajoparichara, righteous and steadfast in truth, lord of the Cedi land, illustrious and devoted to the worship of Brahmins. Pleased by his austerity, Indra gave him a splendid crystal palace, beautiful and desired for pleasure. Mounted upon it, the king traveled everywhere in his divine chariot; thus, Rajoparichara Vasu was not bound to the earth. Renowned throughout all worlds, that king was ever devoted to dharma. His wife, of exquisite form, was named Girika, a beautiful woman.” Thus, the tale continued, linking the greatness of the Goddess with the origins of the wise and revered.